The other day it was my turn to carry the pager. Most of the day it was quiet. We had one patient who went for a procedure that could go bad. The man knew the risks and signed the consent anyway. Maybe he felt he didn't have too many options....It could work and he would be OK...or it wouldn't and the battle he was fighting would be over in an instant. I don't know. I know his nurse was worried when he left.
I was eating lunch when the pager went off. I quickly put the lid back on my dish and ran meeting his nurse on the way. "I'll go," he said. "He's my patient." I felt relieved (it's not my favorite thing to do) and understood his reason for going. If it was my patient I would have gone, too. Our patients become a part of us, even our grumpy ones. I often think about them when I am home. Sometimes I visit them after they transfer out of the unit. I check to see if they are still in the hospital. Not being nosy...just because I care and I can't turn off the caring part. Someone once told me you have to leave your work behind to survive in this business. Sorry, it doesn't work that way.
Without going into details the man didn't make it. The unit was silent when we heard the news and stayed that way for a minute or two while we thought about the man, his family, and his choice. Miraculously, not a beeper beeped, not alarm sounded, and not a person spoke during that moment of silence.
If the beepers or alarms sounded I didn't hear them. That silent moment was his...
Post by Eileen Patterson
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